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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115607">Diverting River</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexandria/pseuds/Lexandria'>Lexandria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Firefly, Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, Gen, Swearing, alternate universe (sort of), time travel (sort of)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:20:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexandria/pseuds/Lexandria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>River Tam, opened up and closed off, is sought out for assistance by a greater being. How could she say no to something so beautiful?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Choices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Transplanting this from FF.net, as I'm really liking AO3 better, in all honesty. This is my story, I do have the same username in both places (feel free to independently check with me via FF.net if you'd like proof), but this is just.. a better site, I feel like. So here we are.</p><p>Fair warning: I'm rather stuck, right now, on continuing this, but I do want to get it moved over, at the very least. Mostly this is a story I work on when I have writers block elsewhere and want to jump-start my writing again. So it'll be real spotty on updates. Sorry y'all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">It often felt like floating. She moved from one side of the ship to another, bare feet picking out the perfect path upon the grating, and the metal felt cold and hummed warm and alive at the same time. Part of River knew, was aware, that there were no obstacles to create the need for the perfect path, but she needed to step just right all the same. Silent, soft, one foot straight, one cocked to the side. Then a step on her toes, the next as well, with a turn all the way about, then forward once more. It was just the path she was to take. Any other path was no good.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Because sometimes, instead of the ship, she was weaving between trees that swayed in the wind, or danced down an empty street, or paced in the garden at her parents' home. Only it was always still the ship, still <em>Serenity</em>, warm and alive and humming happily. Home. Always, always home.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Home was Simon and Kaylee, Inara and Mal, Zoe and Wash, Shepherd Book, and even Jayne who hated her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And so she floated through her home, and no one noticed her. Often, this happened. Sometimes she really moved through, and sometimes she just thought she did. But her feet felt <em>Serenity</em> below her, and River knew that this was a real walk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They were afraid of her, even though Jubal Early was gone and tumbling through space, alone with his thoughts and no one to hurt again. The feelings were still there, hiding, below the surface. River could see them, and sometimes she could not tell if what she was hearing was what was really happening, or what was lurking below. There was no grating for her feet when it came to words and actions of others. Nothing to ground her in real and not-real and could-be-real.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Kaylee and Simon were..together; Kaylee would not wish to play with her just now. No games of tag, but the smiles for Simon were enough. Being alone was difficult, but she was always mostly alone, anyway. Ever since the Academy. Alone but open and vulnerable and sharp all at once.Opened up and locked down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She floated back to her room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">River was dreaming. She always knew when she was, because there would always be something that was not quite right. Even in the Academy, she knew. Something would be off, be wrong. One wrong word, one person knowing something they should not, something. Always something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In this dream, it was that she was whole, not broken open like an egg that fell out of the nest: insides on the outside and nothing to protect her soft bits.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Most do not know they are dreaming right away"</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"I always know. Here I can express myself properly. But I know that you do not belong here, you are not a part of me. How are you in my head and in my dream?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"Because I can be. Because I need to ask you to do something."</em> The presence felt white, bright, like it would swallow her whole if she let it, and yet beautiful in its harshness.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"You would burn me with your light, if I saw you. Even here."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Yes."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Your brightness would burn me up, blow me out like a candle, and everyone else too, if they saw. I feel it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"You are very perceptive. I am in need of your help, if you are wiling to give it."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"You could make me, without asking me to help."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"I could, but I wish for you to want to do it; I will not force you."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"I will wake soon, and will not make as much sense."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"You will, yes." </em> the light seemed pleased, if light could have emotion. River thought that it aught not to be able to, and yet this one did. <em>"I need to send you somewhere. I need for you to help change the path that broke the world."</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Will it change the now?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Yes and no. Your now will not be changed. The now of another timeline might be."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"This world is only one possibility in millions upon millions."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Yes. I wish for you to change a different possibility. You can not change a timeline you are entrenched in, even so far in the past as I wish you to go. You are not any part of the timeline I wish you to alter, you can make changes others could not."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Will I be like this? Less broken?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Perhaps. I cannot say. You will not be whole, but you may be better than you are now. You will likely not be worse."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Simon would be sad for me to go."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"He will not know you are gone, if you are successful."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Then I will have to be, won't I?"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">River woke pleasantly. One moment she was talking with the brightest light, and the next she was slowly opening her eyes in the dark. There was a soft beeping sound, and something in her throat, and in her arm, and in many other places. Invading. Tubes and machines invading, like the Academy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And she was afraid, terrified that <em>Serenity</em> and her rescue were all in her head. Another dream and another delusion for the broken girl to mourn. But if this were the Academy, they might not want her awake, might not know. The ones outside the door, talking quietly, thought she was asleep. Thought she was gone, thought she was empty and vacant.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"...severe brain trauma. There is a good possibility that she will never wake up. We can keep her here, on life support, if you wish" The doctor-man was saying to the crying people. A man and a woman, broken but not in the same way she was. Broken like Simon was when he rescued her and found her so very damaged. Broken like when her brother realized there was no way to fix her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">River held still, this was not the Academy. There were too many sad people here, dead and dying, but healing and growing too. There were some relieved people and happy people and excited people. New little people just coming into being, seeing and feeling for the first time. And most of the people here thought only of helping other people. Helping the sick ones.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hospital.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The bright light said she needed to go somewhere else. Perhaps this was it? But she was lying in bed, while people who mourned for her but did not know her cried and thought she was dead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">"Can't you do something? Anything? She can't be.. she can't be gone, can she?" the woman, the mother, was crying now. The man hugged her protectively, though he grieved too. Little pieces of their hearts died tonight, River could feel them. It made her sad too, she felt their sorrow and wished it weren't so.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But if they mourned for her, should she not tell them she was alive?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"You should not. You are not here to be their daughter."</em> The light spoke to her mind, and River understood only partially. It seemed to know and continued, <em>"Your body does not exist here. This one will do for your soul to reside, it was the nearest I could find in this timeline to your physical makeup, as well as contains the capability for your mental abilities to work."</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Brain damage, the doctor-man had said something about brain damage.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>"Yes."</em> The light answered again before she could speak. Except that with the tube down her throat she couldn't speak anyway. <em>"I have repaired the other injuries for you, but only brought the brain back so far. It is near to your true body's current configuration."</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If it could heal her, though, why had the light not given those people back their daughter? They were so sad: they needed her to be whole again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>"Her soul has moved on. They were meant to lose her, that can not be changed in this timeline, not by me. You have more important things to do than to play at being their daughter, River Tam. Sleep. When you wake, it will be time to leave."</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There was no fighting the command. Like a switch, she was turned off, powered down. A machine not yet ready to work...</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When River-the-Machine was turned back on, it was dark. Or, rather it was darker than it had been before. The lights in the hallway had been dimmed, not dark but not so bright, and there was nothing but the steady beeping of equipment. River knew it was time to leave.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Careful careful, she pulled the tube up out of her throat, coughing as it felt like vomiting plastic and choking all at once. She'd swallowed something too big and now it was killing her. Then it was out, and her lips stung from the tape that had held part of it in place. The needles next, and the other tubes that violated her in undignified ways. Last was the important one, the one on her finger that she knew, in the way she always knew things, would sound an alarm and make people run once she pulled it off.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That steady beep was her heart beat, the finger-thing had a cord that ran to that machine. River looked around, felt around without moving, and knew when the nurses were farthest away. Then, she yanked her finger monitor off and bolted.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Down the hallway, around a corner, into the bathroom and up to stand on the toilet. No feet to see under, no way to know. But she was one, and they were many, and she was in a paper gown. Easy to see, easy to know. They would see and she would be made into the daughter of those sad people.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">No, that was not why she was here. The brightest light did not want her to be made into a daughter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There was an air duct, above. Not easy to reach, but she could. She was not like other people, she could do things they couldn't.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Up. Up. Feet splayed between the two flimsy metal walls between toilets, River balanced, bare toes gripping and supporting. Wiggle and push, the grate popped in, she hauled herself up like emerging from a pool. Grating back in place. Hidden in the walls. Like in <em>Serenity. </em> Safesafesafe.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">But she did not know these parts of this building, old and large and sad with sick and dying held precariously within.Not safe like <em>Serenity</em>, not safe like home. But safe enough.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">River wriggled, graceful little worm, through the shaft, following the only path. There were many she could have gone, but this was the only one, the only right one. Yes. This way. This way and then that other way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">This empty girl she occupied moved like she remembered being able to move, and she could feel that she was not better, not fixed. But the light had said that this body was damaged as her body was, that it would be the same, or as same as it could get. The girl in the mirror was not her, though somewhat similar. Similar height, similar build, dark hair, pale skin, long limbs, very flexible. And she could feel the frantic feelings of the people who found her gone, all the searching, the looking, the peeking into rooms and calling of higher authorities.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It seemed best to wait until it had all died down, the search had stopped, before emerging to find her next perfect path. Waiting was her path, now, waiting and watching until the time was right again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A New Path</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, I'm continuing into another chapter, anyway. Again, no guarantees on continuing beyond this. This is pretty much just a project I do when I need to get back into my writing rhythm and/or to de-stress. I have enough thoughts about it to continue in this chapter, but no plans for the story at all. Right now, this is an organic process. I guess we'll see how that goes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">"C'mon Dean! Pick something!" Yeah, yeah. Sam had been at it for a while, now: constantly pushing and saying things like '<em>get back in the swing of hunting,' </em> and <em>'you were brought back for a reason, Dean!'.</em> It was driving him insane. No chance to catch his breath. Nope. He was Dean Winchester, destined for something and dragged out of hell to accomplish it. Whatever <em>it</em>was.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Not that he was ungrateful. No, not at all. Being pulled from the pit was great, awesome. Really. Too bad his memories stayed intact, too bad they hadn't come sooner. Too bad that, if he'd had some grand mission to fulfill, they let him go anyway. Hell, Dean wasn't even sure that he believed that Castiel was really an angel. Probably some other nasty that just got really good at masquerading as an angel or something.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Well, no, they'd sort of ruled that out, but... whatever.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Some damn grand plan, sending him to hell. Did they have any idea what it was like, what had been done to him? Did they know what he did after? It made him fucking sick. All of it. He didn't fucking deserve to be back, to be here and not stretched out on the rack, screaming for mercy that would never come. Not to say that he had deserved to go to Hell, but he sure did deserve to have stayed. Especially after what he'd done.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Hold your damn horses, Sam!" like snapping at his little brother would help. This whole thing was surreal, and didn't feel quite right, sitting in Bobby's kitchen, looking over possible hunts. Bobby had a shit-ton of them, too. One in Georgia, Black Dog, by the look of it. That one he'd probably end up giving to some other hunter nearer to that area of the country. It'd take them way too long to get there. Washington was closer, but looked like a standard haunting, and that one only occurred every seven years. Their window was closed on that for now...</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Sam was insisting that he pick his first job back. Probably didn't want to push him too hard or something. The giant marshmallow wanted him to bitch about his feelings, talk about Hell. Kept asking about it. Like he was going to do anything other than tell Sam that he didn't remember it. Better for everyone that way, even if the only one he wasn't fooling was himself. Bobby knew enough to leave him alone. Sam just liked to keep digging. Digging and digging and digging.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Here! This one!" Frustrated by his train of thought, Dean snatched up the newspaper on the table, the morning edition, and tossed it in Sam's direction. Then, he got to watch as Sam searched for what could possibly pass as a job in there.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"What...this? 'Comatose Teen Vanishes from Hospital, Suspected Kidnapping'? Dude, that could be anything."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Yeah! That's the point, Sam. It could be anything. Hell, it could actually be a kidnapping, even. But who steals a girl in a coma? My money's on a demon, and since I was brought back by a fucking angel, I should go after demons, right? So, that's it, that's the one I want. Plus, it's local."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Dean, Montana isn't local. It's a completely different state."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Close enough. That little town that hospital's in? Right on the state boarder, nearly. Had a great diner with hot waitresses and awesome pie. Never forget me a pie," Dean forced his lips into his old 'yay pie!' happy expression, hoping that pulling it down would camouflage how excited he wasn't. "Besides, if it turns out to be nothing, it'll be quick gettin' back here."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Well.... okay, yeah. Sure, that's fine with me. It's your first hunt back, don't let me change your mind," ever gangly, Sam raised his long arms in surrender, eying Dean carefully. It was pretty damn clear to Dean that Sam thought there was something wrong with him. And, truthfully, there was. He'd never be the same again...</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Wow this town was small. Yeah, he and Sam had been through their fair share of small towns, but this... well, it was nearly as small as they came. He'd been through smaller, sure: one place was pretty much two bars and a post office, but this was about as small as it could get and still have a hospital with more than one floor.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Three. This hospital had three floors. That's it.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Hell of a place for a demon to pick up a meat suit. And what kind of demon took a coma victim, anyway? Demons could use pretty much whatever body, but still. It didn't make a hell of a lot of sense. Nothing special about this girl: barely eighteen, good student, was walking home from ballet practice when she was hit by a car. The car had sped away, and it had taken half an hour for anyone to notice her body and call for help. After that, fairly normal: admitted to the hospital, looks like her parents were informed that she was pretty much brain-dead and that there was no room for recovery. Then, somehow, in the middle of the night she'd just disappeared.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">The nurse Dean had sweet-talked into spilling the beans was a bit spooked about it. No one had come into or left the hospital, but somehow the security footage had shown someone sprinting down the hallway out of her room. They only had cameras on the entrances and exits, so the running figure was too far away, and even after searching the entire building, the cops had come up empty. So now, here they were in suits again, fake FBI badges and a lot of fast talking to get them into the room alone.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"I dunno, Dean. There's nothing going on, no demonic signs, no sulphur. Nothing. No sign of entry from the window, no one coming into the building."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"That just makes it more weird, doesn't it? Like, our kind of weird! You shouldn't just dismiss it because it's not obviously demonic, what's gotten into you, Sam? You're in such a hurry to get onto the next hunt that you aren't willing to put the time in to this one?" Not to mention what had been done to his baby, Sam had changed himself, too. He really wasn't the same.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Or maybe Dean just didn't know how things were supposed to be any more.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Yeah, you're right. Okay, what do you wanna do now?"</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Treating him like a child was really starting to piss Dean off, actually. Snapping at Sam, again, wasn't gonna do any good, though. "Well, let's search the rest of the place, then."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Her mostly safe space was too small. It had started to feel that way after the first day, when hiding in the vent became hot and squished and wrong. But, River knew, with certainty, that it was not time to come out yet. She had, though, at night. But only to get something to drink and to use the facilities in the bathroom, then it was back into the space again to wait.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Wait wait wait. All she ever did in this body. It did, though, work as hers did. That was good. The brightest light had been right about that. The waiting was hard, though, since she could feel all the dying and the hurt and all the happy and the new and it was all at once, all in her head and in the air and reverberating in the walls of this old building. It remembered. And because it remembered, she knew it too.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Eventually, though, the time was right. Two new people came, and River could tell that they were what she was waiting for. They lied to get in, they searched the room, and then the building for her. Something told her that they were what she was waiting for, but coming out now was not right. Something bad would happen. But they did come in a vehicle: black and sleek, and it felt like a home. Not like Serenity, but their version of Serenity. That would be where to go: that way she could not be made into the child of the sad people.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">While the men were searching the hospital, River picked just the right path through the vents. She knew just where to go, in the way she always knew things... she just did. It did not glow before her, nor come as whispered directions in her mind. No. Simply put: River moved, and somehow it was just the way to go.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">There was a drop after a while, one she had to brace herself against the wall to shimmy down, but that was really the worst of it. Then she was in the vent nearest the ground, and could get out. Another wriggle and another push had the outside grating for the vent pop free, enough for her tosquirm out. There was no putting the grating back on, now, her drop had been too great. Instead, it was hidden, buried under the plants and bushes who would never tell of her escape. No one but she would be able to hear them, anyway. River knew that.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">The sleek black vehicle was parked a bit away from the other vehicles, and it felt like the right one to move to. So she did, along the way finding a few bits of wire on the ground. They had been waiting for her, and they knew how to tell her to move them to help her get the door open. There was a blanket in the back, as if someone liked to sleep there. See? It was a home, wasn't it? Just smaller than Serenity, smaller than her home. This had been their home for longer, though, hadn't it? Since they were little, since one was a child and one was a baby.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Hiding under the blanket, contorting herself small and inhuman, was not too difficult. Then, just waiting again. Here, though, the memories that came at her weren't so bad, mostly good. Some sad, but all homes had sad memories. River fell asleep feeling warm and safe for the first time since waking in this body that was not hers.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"...I dunno what to tell you Sam, this job was a bust. I admit it. No need to treat me like I'm gonna break for sayin' it!" the door slammed open quickly, and the vehicle shook a little as one of them got in one side, and the other opened the door to stand for a moment, dumbstruck, before sliding in too. Neither of them really looked in the cab to see if they had any guests. But then, River knew they wouldn't look. Home was safe, there was no reason to look for anyone invading if they did not expect it.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"It's fine Dean, okay? We'll just try another one."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Stop it, Sam! Just stop! I'm not gonna fucking break!" The one controlling the vehicle, Dean, wanted to do violence. River could feel it lurking just beneath the surface, but harming his home was wrong, so he did not.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">The other one made her skin crawl. He did not make another sound, but for frustrated sighs. Then music of some sort, energetic and loud and grating in a way she had never heard, suddenly filled the space. Their home liked it, though it did not sound so melodic, it was complex enough to be interesting. The tension from the fight hung in the air, though, even with it moved so quickly by sound.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Slowly, River unfolded, like a flower opening to the dawn sun, the blanket bunching around her shoulders, though she stayed tucked down on the floor, between the front seat and the back one, behind the driver and far away from the one who felt wrong. "She does not like it when you fight."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">____ ___ __ _</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Dean slammed his foot to the break, jerking the Impala off to the side of the road while Sam spun around, pulling his gun to point into the back seat. Once he'd stopped and killed the engine, Dean turned too, though he had to angle himself oddly to do so, since the thing that had spoken was on the floor.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Shit, it was that girl!</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"What are you?!" Sam growled, his voice grating and authoritative. The girl, or whatever it was that was wearing her as a meat suit, blinked, turning her head to regard Sam, her eyes not even lingering on the gun for a second. It did not answer, though its expression was far more curious than anything. Curious and confused. But, Sam knew one way to determine if it were a demon in there. "Christo."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"From the Latin, Christus, or from the Greek, Khristos. Your pronunciation is incorrect."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Uh...Sam? I'm gonna say no to her being a demon." But what the hell was she? She spoke in a tone soft and almost floaty, but at the same time full of confidence and authority on the subject of which she spoke. There would be no arguing with her, however strange she was. It almost reminded him of Castiel and the strange way he spoke.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Yeah, I get that Dean." Sam muttered, before slowly withdrawing his gun, "Hey, Katie, right? What're you doing back here?" That.. probably wasn't the right way to go either, but Sam was still a softie. Still, though, there was something wrong with that girl, Dean could feel it. Not something evil, but just not quite..right.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"I am not Katie. Katie left: gone and floated away. The brightest light fixed her body for me to use."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Dean hadn't put his gun away, and with a glance towards Sam, he knew that his grip on it was the only reason Sam was being so friendly towards whatever had taken the girl.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"And who are you, then?"</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"River Tam" At least it was answering questions, however strangely. That and, for once, something supernatural did not seem hell bent on killing them. It was probably a trap of some sort.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Why do you need to be in Katie's body?"</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Katie left, my body could not come back here. I needed somewhere to go. This is near enough to my own body that it is comfortable. The brightest light fixed it most of the way, but it is still broken as I am broken." Now, though, she was eying Sam more carefully, and Dean could see that her body was tense, pushing back against the wall of the car. She did not like Sam, that was clear.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"How are you broken, River Tam?"</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"They broke me open. Can't fix it. Simon tried, couldn't fix it. Broken forever. Outsides raw like insides. Everything painful and raw." That brought up so many terrible visuals, Dean felt like he might throw up. Oh, but he knew how that felt.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Sam's voice was gentle, now, coaxing. He could talk anyone into anything like that, Dean had seen him do it, "Well, River Tam, maybe we should take you back to the hospital. They can fix you there."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"No!" the violence from that one word, actually yelled at them, made Dean jump from his memories of hell, "Nonono! I am not to be their daughter, I am here to change things. I am supposed to be here. This is where the path lead, and it leads farther away from the Hospital and the sad people who miss their daughter and the sick people and dying people and new people."</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">"Okay, okay. Shhhh..." Sam held his hands up after another glance to Dean, "We'll take you with us, and talk at the hotel, okay?" The girl nodded, suddenly calm after her outburst, as though nothing had happened.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Without another word, Dean started the Impala and eased her back onto the freeway, making his way toward the hotel they'd rented a room at. Definitely, he'd picked an interesting case...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Travels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After several years, Iʼm having thoughts about this story again, so Iʼll be continuing for at least this next chapter, and I have some thoughts for the next one, as I've essentially split an episode in half for this. Mostly to pull me out of writerʼs block with projects that are outside of this site. It always seems when Iʼm stuck on those other projects is when I get ideas for this story, which is good, I figure.</p>
<p>I still have no real plan, but thank you anyone who reads this; I do greatly appreciate it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shouldnʼt we get her some clothes or somethinʼ?” Dean found himself muttering to Sam as they managed to get Katie/River Tam into their motel room without being seen. It was especially awkward when it became apparent that she was still in the paper gown from the hospital, but heʼd wrapped her up in the spare blanket from the back seat quickly enough to avoid a super awkward situation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She, strangely, had seemed fairly oblivious to her state of undress. Another point in the ʻitʼs not humanʼ column. Yet, despite her obliviousness, she accepted the blanket readily enough, and did not seem to mind, at all, the rough gravel of the parking lot on the way to the room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somehow sheʼd even missed all the broken glass, without even looking down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now she was wandering serenely about the dinky little motel room, peering at the television or the old-fashioned phone on the nightstand, or frowning at the beds for a few moments before moving on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well... yoursʼd fit better than mine would. Got an extra T-shirt?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, Sam. But no pants thatʼd work. Youʼre taller. Get her one of your button-up shirts: itʼll probably reach her knees.” Of course, Sam just scowled and grunted in reply, though he did do as Dean suggested. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he dug around in his bag, trying to locate a shirt that was clean, he grumbled, “Donʼt even know whatʼs in her, what do you care if itʼs clothed or not?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Katie would have cared.” River Tam piped up serenely, though she was currently eying the alarm clock with growing interest. “Modesty is an antiquated ritual, but Simon claims it is necessary for proper society to function. Katie would have agreed with Simon; I will take the shirt.” Though she did not come close to him to take it from his hand when he offered it to her. She did not run away from Sam, but had no interest in voluntarily drawing near him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yeah, she definitely did not like Sam. Apparently, Dean noted, she had no problem with him. Which, honestly, was really, really weird: most people found him off-putting and his brother more friendly. Sam had changed, sure, but... he still had that boyish-hurt-puppy charm that worked on just about anyone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except for River Tam. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her body language was hard to read, of course, but she never did get too near to Sam, and had been trying to get away from him in the impala. It was just weird. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sam was different, sure, but so was he. And Dean knew that his perception might not be quite right, anyway. Everything seemed different, he felt raw still, and thought, sometimes, that heʼd wake up from this dream of being back, and find himself on the rack. Or torturing someone else who was on the rack. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Either way, this did not seem real half the time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually, she snagged the shirt and closed herself into the bathroom after a moment of hesitation. Almost as if she had to remember that that was the appropriate thing to do. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Whatever River Tam was, it was not human. Couldnʼt be, could it?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> ____ ___ __ _ </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Dean was broken. Not like she was broken, and not like Simon was broken, but in a different way. Maybe a little bit like how Mal was broken, having to do bad things when he is not bad, and a little how Zoe was broken by needing to always be strong. And also broken differently than that: from being trapped in a bad place until he had to do the bad things too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Doing the bad things was eating him up inside.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">It had been difficult to let the not-right one near enough to hand her the shirt. Something was <em>wrong</em> with him. Very, very wrong. Under all the wrong, she thought there was someone who was also broken in his own way, too. Maybe trying to fix that broken is what made him so wrong now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Everyone thought they were the only broken ones, but everyone was broken. Except the little new people at the hospital: they were just perfect.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Water ran in the bathroom, hidden in the walls, offering to clean. Inside the walls of the Hospital had been dirty. Water was scarce but <em>so much</em> flowed in the walls. The perfect path lead back to the door, peeking through, River let her voice cut through the not-so-silent argument she was not supposed to hear, “There is lots of water in the walls, can I have some? The shirt will be dirty quickly otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Uh.. d’you mean a shower? Yeah, go for it” Dean seemed to puzzle at her meaning, but that was not so unusual, really. Everyone puzzled at her meaning, even though she spoke plainly to her own mind. Sometimes less than others, but the words came out as they did, as they had to, and they would try to understand them and sometimes fail at it. So far, though, she was not seeing so much of things that were hidden: she knew of them, but did not confuse them with what was real. Perhaps this was the difference the Brightest Light meant. Healed her some, but close to her real configuration. Seeing the real, and only knowing the other-real, was good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">No more tree branches that could be weapons. Knowing it can be benign but can also hurt is good; being only able to see it as benign was problematic before, had frightened Kaylee and angered Mal and upset Simon.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">The shower was nice, and warm, and the warm water did not seem to end. It was like it had been as a child, before Serenity, before the Academy, when she was younger and whole and safely stowed away by her parents. Back when all things were possible for her. Now the impossible was possible and the possible impossible. So much taken away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Ah, but their path said staying here was wrong; time was short for them to keep on track. Important things were about to happen…</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">____ ___ __ _</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Dean, what the hell are we doing?” Sam hissed, keeping his voice low even though the shower was clearly running and River Tam would not be able to hear them. Well, probably wouldn’t, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Letting it have a shower? I don’t know, Sam! We know it’s not a demon. I’d think maybe an angel, or whatever it is that Castiel is, given how it talks. Maybe they possess people too? But it was freaking out about going back to the hospital and it’s not wrong! We take it back, and then we have to deal with the parents and doctors and cops. We figure out what’s in her, get it out, and then we can take her back. Or we figure it out, it’s not good, and we have to gank it. Kid was pretty much gone, and if this thing is to be believed, Katie isn’t in there any more. The body’s probably dead, Sam. And it doesn’t seem intent on just flat ass killing us, so we can look into this.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Dean felt the urge to pace around. Something. Anything. He had too much anger and energy and no where to put it, and Sam was just.. so different. In a hurry to rush the job, get on to the next one. What had he been doing this whole time, not hunting like this, had he?</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“We don’t know what it’s up to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, so we need to not rush this!” The last thing they needed was to get sloppy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Fine, maybe Bobby will know” Sam already had his phone out, about ready to dial when that soft voice spoke up again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“It is time to go; the path is leading away from here, we cannot stay. Something is coming.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">How the hell did she keep sneaking up on them? Judging by how Sam jumped, he hadn’t heard the bathroom door open either. Katie was now in Sam’s shirt, and it did reach below her knees just a touch. She’d used something.. the tie from the hospital gown?.. to cinch it so it looked less like a shirt and more like a dress. Slightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Then we should stay and stop it.” Sam was trying to keep his voice soft, but Dean could see the cracks in his facade.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yes. That is why it is time to leave. You cannot stop it if you are here, alone. It will follow you, and you must go to it, because it will come with you and you must help to stop it and must have help to stop it. It will follow you, and it will be where you arrive. Your father who is not your father will need you soon.” the thing in Katie moved to the door, somehow slipping the attempt Sam made to grab her arm in such a way as it looked as though it were a fluke.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">She seemed frustrated, if the frown that pulled at her lips and furrowed her brow were anything to go by, “We need to leave. I cannot say what I mean in the way you want; expression is difficult with all the feeling and all the knowing and all the pushing at my brain. Everything pushes and it is salt in a wound and burning the knowledge in. But it is there and it is real and it will be bad if we do not leave.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Sam was making his impatient face again, but it was Dean who felt little pieces slotting into place. There was only one person he’d consider like a father that wasn’t his dad, “We need to go to Bobby?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yes. The books and the knowledge cannot help if they cannot be accessed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Well, okay. Bobby had enough tests and traps and failsafes that if this River Tam was anything bad, there was a fair chance it wouldn’t be able to get into Bobby’s home. And with three of them, they’d stand a better chance against it anyway.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Sam?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, okay,” at least he still did his bitchface like before; that’s one thing that hadn’t changed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">____ ___ __ _</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Dean hated having that thing in the seat behind him. Kept expecting it to grab him as he drove. But River Tam, for all it took ten minutes to convince it to wear a seatbelt, seemed pretty calm once the car started moving, and seemed content to stare out the window and basically ignore them. Except that he couldn’t have a conversation with Sam about this, since it was <em>right there</em>, behind him. And still seemed uneasy about Sam, as it refused to sit behind him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“She likes the music, you miss it too”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Then, of course, he’s thinking that it’ll just sit there and it startles him again by speaking out of the blue.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Katie likes the music?” Sam asked, twisting to angle himself toward the back seat. Which, fair question, since River Tam claimed Katie was gone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“No, your home. She likes the music; it makes her happy that you listen to it still.” a pause, and then, “I think it is strange but pleasing. Dancing to it would be interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">What the fuck?</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">He glanced at Sam, who seemed just as skeptical. Most of what this River Tam said did not make sense. But it said it was broken, that expressing itself was hard. So everything it said had a round-about meaning, maybe? Which.. it was saying that the Impala liked it when he played music. Which was probably her way of commenting that the car was too quiet, which it definitely was.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Took just a practiced motion to get some Lead Zeppelin playing which, yeah, okay… helped him feel a bit more at ease with this whole thing…</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">____ ___ __ _</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Better call Bobby, give him a heads up. He’s not gonna be happy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">With a grumble, Sam complied, and damn he was in just a shitty mood recently. Well, ‘recent’ was a relative term, but basically since Dean had gotten back. But he called, and Dean could hear Bobby cursing about them bringing a ‘guest’, the word basically spit in such a Bobby way that Dean could envision his expression even this far from the phone and only his muddled voice to go off of.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Yeah, Bobby was going to <em>love</em> this.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">For the majority of the ride, once he got the tunes going, River Tam was quiet in the back seat, and Dean would have figured she’d be asleep if things that possessed people needed sleep, which they didn’t. Which was why he was surprised <em>again</em> when he killed the engine and turned to see that River Tam was asleep in the back seat, cocooned in the blanket she’d hidden under earlier that day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, we’re here,” climbing out of the car, Dean reached to the back seat, shaking her shoulder a bit to get her going, and once he was sure she was coming with, he followed Sam to the door, where Bobby was already waiting with the customary shot of holy water and a sawed-off probably loaded with rocksalt or iron, or both, in his other hand pointed their way. He and Sam took the shot quickly, as River Tam watched them, head tilted to the side until Dean sighed, rolled his eyes, and held the shot glass out to her, “You gotta drink this or Bobby won’t let you in.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“It’s water with belief poured in, but important too, somehow. Like Shepard Book’s symbol, but more real,” she drank it, adding “The brightest light might not be able to fix me again; I don’t think the ammunition would kill me, but I don’t want to get shot.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Bobby grunted, letting them in the house, muttering under his breath about idjits bringing who-knows-what to his home as he stomped into the kitchen, pretending he wasn’t keeping an eye on if everyone made it through the doorway and off the rug concealing the devil’s trap. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“So on top of all this angel stuff, now we got to figure out what this is too, and you brought it to my hou- Hey! Don’t touch those!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Somehow River Tam had drifted over to one of the stacks of books, reaching toward one in the middle, “You will be looking for this one, they have been calling for you but you cannot hear them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“You’re a psychic?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">River Tam shrugged Katie’s shoulders as Sam moved over to take the book she’d motioned to opening it to begin scanning for information. On what, he wasn’t <em>quite</em> sure, as River Tam hadn’t indicated what Bobby was looking for, but probably either angels or something that can possess human bodies, since those were the pertinent issues of the week.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“What do we call you, then?” and Dean realized that apparently Sam hadn’t thought to give the thing’s name when warning Bobby what they were bringing to his home.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“RiverTam” Sam spoke up before it could, squishing the words together like it was one name; Dean was pretty sure there was supposed to be a pause between. “Can’t find any reference to it online, maybe you have some books that might have it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Never heard of that, and it won’t tell you what it is?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Uh.. we asked but, it said it’s body couldn’t come back here, so some light fixed Katie’s body for it, but also left it broken.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Not much for, uh, speaking clearly, unfortunately. Mostly sounds like riddles.” Dean piped up, wondering, not for the first time, how much they could believe about what it said. Still, it was the least aggressive thing they’d run into in a long time, so might as well take what they could get in that respect.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Simon would say that it is rude to speak as if I am not here,” it spoke as it studied the phone on the wall, hands clasped behind its back while leaning forward slightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Hrumphing softly, Bobby addressed River Tam directly, “What are ya, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“A girl.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“You’re in a girl, but what are you, inside? What were you before?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Almost the same, but not quite. A little more broken. I may be me, or a copy of me, maybe, inside still,” she tapped the side of her head a moment, “Not sure; the brightest light did not elaborate on how I am here now and how Simon will not know I am gone, I think had I asked the question would still be unanswered. Katie’s body is almost like mine, can move like mine. Brain makes my thoughts similar, expression difficult but somewhat better, understanding greater than the human brain can process. I can still see the path.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">She talked about ‘the path’ a lot, but as she spoke often in round about ways, Dean thought it was probably less literal, and more about the best option under the circumstances. Like a psychic, maybe, though River Tam did not seem attached to that label.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Where were you before ‘the brightest light’ put you in Katie?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Home. Serenity,” it— no, <em>she</em>, if it was to be believed, tilted her head again, drifting nearer the books, “You would be searching after Angels if I were not here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">That was true, and Dean grabbed a book, glancing Sam’s way as he was still flipping through the book River Tam had singled out, “No angels in here,” he said, putting it down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“We’ll keep reading, you’re gonna get me some pie,” he tossed the impala’s keys to Sam as his gangly brother rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">As soon as Sam was out the door, River Tam stopped keeping half her attention on him as she drifted around, and actually settled into a seat, tucking her legs under herself. Which, yeah, they need to find her some pants. And shoes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">How did her bare feet not hurt after the walk from the Impala to Bobby’s house?</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">____ ___ __ _</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“He’s going to forget your pie,” River Tam spoke from where she was very carefully <em>not</em> touching any of Bobby’s books, seeing as how Bobby kept telling her not to. Dean glanced her way then made sure to reiterate to Sam that he remember the pie. Which he refuted and then suddenly had to go.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">What could come up so suddenly in a food run?</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Bobby was on the phone again, brow creased in that way that said he was worried about something but didn’t want to admit to it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Spill, Bobby. What’s goin’ on?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“It’s been three days of me tryin’ to call Olivia Lowry, and she’s not answering. She doesn’t do that. Not for this long. She’d have more info about the Angel thing, besides that it’s the only thing that can pull a soul from hell, from what I can tell. I’m gonna go check on her. She’s a state over, so gotta set out soon to make any kind of time.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Gotta stay together,” River Tam piped up, again, “Not safe alone. Olivia Lowry was alone. Not safe not safe not safe.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Say, River Tam, why’d ‘the brightest light’ put you in Katie?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">She seemed to think a moment, “The brightest light said it cannot change what happens here; it is part of this place. I am not part of this now, or the future of this now, so I can make things different.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“So.. you’re here to help us?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“I think so. The path lead me to wait for you, and to come with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“The light lead you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“No, the path. It is the right thing for me to do. It is… the path. My path. The perfect path,” she seemed to be growing frustrated, as though she did not have a different, clearer way to express what she was trying to say. And Dean realized she’d said as much earlier.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“‘Expression difficult but somewhat better’ you said. So you have trouble saying what you mean? But less trouble than you had where you were before?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yes. Sometimes it becomes so much, the chaos, the dark, and it takes over and I wake up to find I was chaos too. Here it is.. less. The chaos is there but I am not about to fall in, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Bobby watched the exchange, clearly piecing together as much as Dean had been. So something, maybe an angel or whatever was pretending to be one, had stuck this River Tam into Katie’s body to help them. She was maybe a psychic, but one that couldn’t say what she meant very well, so whatever put her in Katie helped with that. Which, damn, how hard was she to understand <em>before</em> she was ‘somewhat’ fixed?</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, Bobby? You got something she can wear besides Sam’s shirt?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Do I look like I keep a bunch of ladies’ clothes in here? We’ll get her somethin’ when we stop for gas.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Woah, hey, you wanna bring her with, to check on a hunter? That’s a recipe for all sorts of problems, Bobby.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“I’m not leavin’ her alone in my house, not when we don’t know what she is, or what she really wants,” okay, that was fair. And a glance at River Tam showed she did not seem to mind overhearing Bobby talk about her like that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">The familiar grumble of the impala interrupted, and they moved outside, Bobby reaching Sam first, “Keep the engine running.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Why? What’s going on?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“I got a friend one state over — Olivia Lowry. I’ve been trying to reach her for three days on this angel thing. It’s not like her to ignore this many calls.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Olivia Lowry — a hunter, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah. We’re gonna go check on her. You guys follow me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s2">Dean motioned for him to scoot over, then let River Tam into the back seat before settling in, peeking into the bag Sam brought, “Hey dude? River Tam was right about one thing, you forgot the pie.”</span>
</p>
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